The 23rd
by poster108
Summary: The 23rd follows Richter O'Hanlon, the boy tribute from District 4 in the 23rd Annual Hunger Games as he fights for survival against the elements, his fellow tributes, and, in fact, his very emotions.


**Chapter One**

It was a beautiful spring morning the day of the reaping. I woke up at 11, much later than usual, as I'd usually be out on the boats catching fish for several hours at this point. But because of the reaping, everyone has the day off, except for those crucial people; peacekeepers and the like. It's nice to sleep in, though, as I only ever get the one day off a year. Every year I get more and more worried that my name is going to be plucked out of that pile of names. Every year, I sign up for 2 more Tesserae, 1 for every 2 members of my family. We're well enough off that I don't need one for everybody. This year, since I'm sixteen and this is my fourth year in the running for the Games, I've got twelve slips of paper with my name on it. Twelve chances out of the thousands of people living in District 4. Twelve chances that will never be picked, right?

All of these things are in my head as I walk to my very best friend's house. She and I have been friends since we were in school. We've had a very symbiotic relationship, in that I taught her how to fish and she taught me how to weave a net. That's what her family does. They're net-weavers, and my family are fishermen. Sarah Durin and I get together at least once a week just to catch up, but lately there's been a bit more tension between us. You see, she's now 15, and this year, her father got very, very sick and ended up dying from it, and her mother hasn't been able to work, since she's been grieving. So this year, to support herself and her mom, she has to sign up for Tesserae. She's been so scrawny ever since, and it really does not reflect well on her light olive coloured skin. She's only about 5'10", and people in District 4 don't typically go without food so much. Her sunken eyes and sallow complexion reveal that something is clearly wrong in her life, or has been recently.

"It'll be alright, Sarah. Your name isn't gonna be picked. If either of us is going to be picked, it's me." I tell her. She just nods glumly and turns to walk towards the town square. I grab her shoulder and turn her 'round.

"Did you hear me? You're not going to be picked. And if you are, I'll volunteer as boy tribute so I can make sure you don't die." She looks up at me with her round, brown eyes, glinting at me in the sunlight. Her face breaks into a smile as she lets out a giggle and turns to continue on her way. I have to smile at her bliss for a moment before following her.

We kill a few hours chatting and walking around, buy some lunch from the market, then head down to the Square in front of the Justice Building for the reaping. We say our goodbyes as we part ways to our separately designated areas to view the reaping. I catch her eye from across the Square and wink reassuringly at her. She giggles and faces her friends to talk to them.

The national Anthem plays, and the chatter of the crowd dies down as everyone prepares for the reaping. "Welcome, everybody, to the reaping for the 23rd Annual Hunger Games!" says the voice of Gerloch McArin, the announcer we get every single year from the Capitol to choose the tributes. "I am sure you are all anxious as to who will be chosen to represent District 4 this year! Might I remind you, you may only volunteer once both tributes are chosen, and if you are chosen, please head inside the Justice Building." he continues. I glance at Sarah, who looks anxiously upon the man.

"Well, then, now that we're all ready, let's get to the reaping." says Gerloch before reaching into the first jar of names. "Ladies first." He digs around for an excruciating amount of time, or so it seems. It's really only about thirty seconds, but it feels like forever. He plucks a name out, holds it up for all to see, then unfolds the little slip of paper that is to be somebody's doom. Gerloch glances at the paper for a moment, then holds the microphone to his lips to announce, "Sarah Durin!"

My heart sinks to the bottom of my feet. I look around, dizzy, and try to find Sarah. A nearby voice asks if I'm alright, but I'm not. Sarah and I are so close. I catch her eye, seeing only tears streaming down her face in a wretched waterfall of sorrow. She glances at me with dismay, only for a second, before looking back to the Peacekeepers leading her to the steps of the Justice Building for the whole District to observe her, their girl tribute, their sacrifice.

I don't even notice that Gerloch has reached into the second jar to pick a boy's name until, all of a sudden, I hear, "Richter O'Hanlon!" and I'm suddenly being grabbed by the Peacekeepers and swept up to the steps of the Justice Building. I'm in total shock, and don't even register that I need to keep standing when they get me onto the stage. I fall on my ass in a stupor, and the Peacekeepers have to haul me back up to my feet and wave a hand in front of my face to snap me out of it.

"There you are, District 4! Your tributes for the Hunger Games are Sarah Durin and Richter O'Hanlon! This concludes the reaping. If you are family of the tributes, you may see them before they are whisked away to the Capitol to begin preparation for the Games." declares Gerloch McArin in a very finalistic tone. He steps away from the podium, and faces Sarah and I. "All ready, folks?" he says and, before we have a chance to reply, he grabs one of our arms in each hand and leads us into the Justice Building.

We are both sent to different rooms to await our family. The room I am sent to is a very plain, stone room with two leather couches and a coffee table. I sit down, still completely shocked that both Sarah and I, against all odds, are now going to have to butt heads in the 23rd Hunger Games. One of us, if not both, is going to die. I have absolutely no discernable emotion for what I feel with this knowledge. How can the Capitol do this to people? I didn't take part in any rebellion. Nor did Sarah. So why are we now facing the punishment? This isn't fair! Why do I have to-

"Hey, pal. How you holdin' up?" says my father gruffly. I hadn't even noticed he walked in, and I'm too shocked to respond.

"You're going to be alright, Richter." I know he's about to go all 'serious Dad' on me, because he's using my full name. "You know how to fish, you can wield a trident just fine, and I've taught you how to build shelters on shoresides and in forests, right? You'll be the best qualified tribute out there!" he concludes, although there's an air of doubt in his voice. I look up at him, and his eyes are puffy and red, and I see my mother a few feet behind him, weeping silently. My father pats me on the shoulder, then stands up to leave.

"Where's Jill?" I ask. My father stops in his tracks and pauses, then turns around to tell me where my sister is.

"Your sister has gone home. She… She couldn't stand to see you in this situation, kiddo." he says, his voice breaking. I stand up and give him and my mother a hug before they are whisked away by the Peacekeepers. I hear my mother in the Main Hall shrieking out my name, and it is all I can do to suppress my tears. I know that I am already on television all over the nation, and I don't need to be showing any weaknesses.

After all, the 23rd Annual Hunger Games has begun.


End file.
